These Foolish Things
by JohnTheFishLovesSnuffles
Summary: Sorry, my dear, but this little one is a bit of an angsty RL/SB because that's what the song, to me, dictates. Yes this is another song-fic from me!Sorry again. but it's done to a glorious tune! Go one, give it a go! There's 3 sexy men in it ok one's just singing the song but anyway! Reviews make my day!


**Disclaimer- Not mine. HP would not be PG rated if it was. They'd be lots of Sexy Remus and Sirius, otherwise.**

**Nor do I own the lovely little song from Mr. Ferry that I've interweaved with my story.**

**A/N- This is a little thing that would not leave me alone after hearing the song but I've only just got round to it! Set in the bit where my dear Remi is thinking "My sexy Siri was the naughty little traitor the whole time! I mean I know he was naughty, but killing his best mate and his wife? Bit far don't you think Pads?" When really it was the little rodent being naughty!**

**Anyway, let's get ruddy on with it, shall we my dears?**

_Oh will you never let me be? _

_Oh will you never set me free? _

_The ties that bound us are still around us _

_There´s no escape that I can see _

_And still those little things remain _

_That bring me happiness or pain _

A young man sat, drowning his many sorrows in in whiskey glass, in a dark corner of an old jazz club he'd once regular-ed -not too long ago, actually- with another man. Lost in his memories that had arose upon entering the place.

_A cigarette that bears a lipstick's traces _

_An airline ticket to romantic places _

_And still my heart has wings _

_These foolish things _

_Remind me of you _

Everywhere the young man looked there were things that reminded him of the other man. Little things that he'd never noticed when the man had been here with him but now were unavoidable. Like the smodering cigarette in the ash tray on his table. Like the slip of paper of the next table that looked, from his distance, like airline tickets (the other man had once proposed a grand trip in the very seat opposite the man).

_A tinkling piano in the next apartment _

_Those stumbling words that told you what my heart meant _

_A fairground's painted swings _

_These foolish things _

_Remind me of you_

Across the bar the club the pianist played a song that harboured so many memories, for one time it had been playing at the time the other man had first said those three little words that made his life seem complete at the time. Funnily, well more ironically, perhaps, the man never new that name of the song but the tune and words never left him.

_You came, you saw, you conquered me _

_When you did that to me, I somehow knew that this had to be _

_The winds of march that make my heart a dancer _

_A telephone that rings - but who´s to answer? _

_Oh, how the ghost of you clings _

_These foolish things _

_Remind me of you _

Oh how he'd been lost to that other man. So lost he'd lost all inhibitions once and actually got up and danced with him to the song now playing, so and sensual as it was. So lost that often that someone would appear in the floo or actually apparate in to the apartment and go unnoticed for a few moments.

_Gardenia perfume ling´ring on a pillow _

_Wild strawb´ries only seven francs a kilo _

_And still my heart has wings _

_These foolish things _

_Remind me of you _

The place had a smell that had always lingered on the other man, even after not being at the club for weeks. It was sweet and slightly feminine yet the other man would have been odd without it. Now the smell was odd without the other man. The waiter brought over some complimentary-due to his regular status- strawberries. He remembered when he and the other man had actually had to pay for them.

_The park at evening when the bell has sounded _

_The Isle de France with all the girls around it _

_The beauty that is spring _

_These foolish things _

_Remind me of you _

The place also brought back memories of the trip they'd taken with the airline tickets. France had been swamping with girls all sending admiring glances-well, more lusting stares- at the other man that spring, while the two had laughed at what those girls didn't know. The stroll they'd taken in the park below the Eiffel Tower as a distance bell chimed midnight and the other man had leaned over and kissed him right below the Eiffel Tower. When daylight could not judge the two men and they were just two silhouettes in love.

_I know that this was bound to be _

_These things have haunted me _

_For you´ve entirely enchanted me _

The man had hoped coming here would lay all this to rest, let bygones be bygones but there really was not forgetting the enchanting other man. Now he'd just have to be haunted by him.

_The sigh of midnight trains in empty stations _

_Silk stockings thrown aside, dance invitations _

_Oh, how the ghost of you clings _

_These foolish things _

_Remind me of you _

Going home from that holiday they'd had to camp out in an empty train station in order to get the first train home in the morning. The only others remain where shop keepers in the little duty free sort of area. The other man had been frivolous- was he ever anything else?- and brought stockings to see who could ping them the furthest. But not any stockings; silk stockings. He truly was one of a kind.

_First daffodils and long excited cables _

_And candlelight on little corner tables _

_And still my heart has wings _

_These foolish things _

_Remind me of you _

The little jazz club moved onto a song that had been playing on the wireless the day they'd gone for a picnic down by the lake at Hogwarts, just as the first daffodils of spring began to bloom. They'd progressed weeks later to the candle lit tables of here.

_The smile of Garbo and the scent of roses _

_The waiters whistling as the last bar closes _

_The song that Crosby sings _

_These foolish things _

_Remind me of you _

The man never stopped smiling, an unrivalled smile by even the most attractive 'smiler' because it was always true, especially when he smelled roses. Oh, and as they'd been kicked out at midnight from this very club every Friday because the waiters were long for their beds and the musician and no more Crosby songs left to sing.

_How strange, how sweet to find you still _

_These things are dear to me _

_That seem to bring you so near to me _

The man would never understand why all of these memories still felt fond, after all that had happened, after what the other man had done.

_The scent of smould´ring leaves, the wail of steamers _

_Two lovers on the street who walk like dreamers _

Closing time came and he was, like he and the other man had always been, kicked out onto the street where he could smell the scent of burnt leaves and could see a pair of young lovers, no older than he and the other man had been when they'd started coming here walking hand in hand in the beautiful world that lovers often created for themselves. The man could remember the one he'd shared with the other.

_Oh, how the ghost of you clings _

_These foolish things _

_Remind me of you, just you_

The man sighed as he felt a chill. So maybe tonight had not been successful in putting the ghosts to rest but he'd left with a feeling of something else that meant he could try and carry on with the ghosts beside him.


End file.
